


Settling

by K_is_online



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Possibly Unrequited Love, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:40:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27974567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_is_online/pseuds/K_is_online
Summary: Jaskier loved him, his heart, his bones, his very being, all of it ached with the amount of love he held within him. That was precisely why when he saw his Witcher again he knew exactly what to do.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Kudos: 52





	Settling

Ever since the mountain, ever since his heart was so skilfully torn in two, he had avoided Geralt. Yet an artist can never truely avoid their muse. Every twist and turn, every song and melody revolved around them, around the man who didn't appreciate the years they had spent together, the hardship they had endured, the work he had done to assist not only Geralt but every Witcher like him. At every inn he played people requested songs and tales of the great White Wolf while courts seemed to fancy his love songs, all dripping in the sorrow reserved for unrequited love.

Unsurprisingly, everyone wanted to hear her sweet kiss. He wished he had never written that blasted song, that he had kept that one secret just for his ears and lips. His voice still cracked on the lines, he was still weak and wanting. He would still lay down his life for a man that viewed him as an annoyance and inconvenience. It was tragic really. A bard who sang about true love yet will never experience it for himself, one who would never be able to do more than to settle with his lot in life, down another ale and smile for a crowd before baring his soul to them.

***  
It was colder now, winter had well and truely settled in. Flurries of glistening white snow fell from the heavens, kissing all in its path with its ice cold lips and creating a thick blanket on the hard earth. Jaskier was on his way to a new inn, slowly getting further and further away from Cintra as Nilfgaard raided every town in its path. He didn't use his name while preforming anymore. He had heard the rumours, the Princess Cirilla had escaped the ransacking of Cintra and now was wanted by every man in the kingdom, Queen Calanthe hadn't exactly had many citizens ready to die for her or her bloodline for a long time now and if capturing Cirilla would help save their town, their family, he would not put it past any peasant, knight or noble to capture her. Though he doubted it would happen, it would take at least ten skilled warriors to take down Geralt, who had undoubtedly searched for the Princess, or perhaps stumbled across her. As much talk about destiny and fate and how he didn't believe in it, Destiny was a cruel mistress and her subjects would always bend to her whim one way or another. 

The problem for him was the fact that if Geralt was with the Princess then he very much needed to keep his head down, Nilfgaard wasn't exactly renowned for their treatment of those who opposed them. He mightn't be able to actually help Nilfgaard, even if they did use all their best methods of persuasion, it wasn't exactly as if he knew where Geralt was, or what he was doing. However, he did know many things about Geralt, about Witchers in general. He knew their potions, he knew their healing rates, he knew where their keep was, despite the fact he had never been to the famous Kaer Morhen, but perhaps the most important thing was that he knew who Geralt cared about. It was an unfortunate truth that Geralt will save anyone, anyone, who needed saving. If a trap was laid well, lives were on the line if Geralt ignored it, they were on the line even if he acted on it, and thus Geralt would act, leaving both Witcher and Princess vulnerable. 

He shouldn't be thinking that Geralt's bleeding heart was a weakness of his, as much as the other tried to deny it with his grunts and astounding lack of vocabulary, Geralt felt so much, too much. Yet all that emotion tended too manifest into anger and denial until it turned into physical symptoms, such as insomnia. Shakily, Jaskier raised his hand to his throat at that thought, the horrible memory of coughing, choking, drowning, the tangy taste of iron filling his mouth and the waves of pain that almost incapacitated him. He knew Geralt hadn't meant to wish a painful death upon him but... well it didn't really matter. He was saved by that horrid sorceress who smelled of lilac and gooseberries before being left outside without so much as a 'I'm incredibly grateful I did not accidentally kill you' as Geralt rushed in to save the stupid woman who saved him. 

Maybe it wasn't only Geralt who was grumpy when he couldn't sleep. 

Sighing, he trudged along into the nearest tavern, hoping to play for the night before he left and travelled on to the next town. Nothing was more frustrating than being on the very brink of complete success, almost having completed a whole song cycle about your muse and all his accomplishments and starting to gain worldwide renown, his songs heard in every inn, tavern and brothel across the Continent, just for it all to come crumbling to a halt. That being said he still occasionally sang some of his originals, it was unavoidable. People had been singing Toss a Coin for the greater part of two decades now and he simply couldn't deny a patron's request. Still, unless requested he stuck to classics, avoiding any work that could plausibly be associated with him and the Witcher that he so wished to hide any connection to. Unfortunately, as he walked into the unassuming tavern on this night, stomping out the snow from his boots and shaking the cold from his bones, he had the unnerving feeling that nothing would go right. At least if he rationalised it he could count on one hand the times his choices had gone the way he intended, with the majority of them skewing from the idea in his head or being completely crushed by some unthought of obstacle. Yet he was still alive anyway. So instead of turning back and facing the harsh night once more he simply walked up to the tavern owner and asked if they had room for a bard. With a confirmation and a payment of hot food and any tips he made, Jaskier started to play for the crowd enjoying their meals, hoping none got too rowdy in a town where Nilfgaard likely already had spies strewn about. 

It was about halfway through his set, in the midst of a bawdy song called Charlotte the Harlot, that the door was swung open and he felt his heart leap into his throat. For fuck's sake, if he was right about who these people were all the avoiding in the world suddenly became useless. A young girl with a cloak in far too a royal blue and a man in a coat of far lesser caliber, walked into the tavern, the child hiding behind the far more opposing figure. Jaskier attempted to ignore them while he finished his song, winking at a very pretty barmaid as he did before settling down. "I'm just going to have a short break, wet my whistle and conquer my appetite, I look forward to playing for such a lovely crowd again once I am finished!" He called brightly, before very carefully walking over to the tavern owner currently dealing with whom he hoped was anyone but the Witcher and Princess he was steadfastly avoiding. Apparently lady luck was not on his side that night as he caught sight of the young girl, the spitting image of her mother. With a sigh he talked to the owner, not too happy that he was seriously considering this. "If you don't mind can you give my meal to this young lady here, she seems quite young to have travelled in this harsh weather. If it's not too troublesome may I also ask for an ale?" 

With the confirmation from the owner, a drink soon in his hand, and a few coins poorer, he sat an empty table in the corner of the establishment. One that he knew a certain Witcher would likely wish to sit in if it was indeed him and not some random man with the heir of what once was Cintra. This was bad. They were in soon to be enemy territory if the whispers he had heard throughout the night were true and the Princess honestly needed to be as far away from what was her former kingdom as possible. His musing was interrupted soon enough however by a gruff voice. 

"Jaskier, didn't expect to see you here." Geralt spoke as if the last thing they had talked about was what they were going to have for lunch, or where they would meet up when the ice had thawed. His voice did not seem to follow on from that angry, venomous abuse that was so heartbreaking on that godsdamnned mountain. 

"I hardly expected to see you here either, especially considering word is that Nilfgaardian forces will arrive within a few days, if not sooner." He replied, wincing at the shakiness of his voice. He had felt so many things for this man, he still does, and for him to not even utter an apology to him? Clearly his unwavering faith in the man before him should never extend into his own selfish desires as to what he thought their relationship was. 

"Yes well... we can only travel so far. Roach was injured so I can't overstrain her and Fiona here is just a child."

Ahh so her name was FIona in public then, it made far more sense considering everyone was eager to hear the name Cirilla fall from loose lips. "Lovely to meet you Fiona, I'm Jaskier, I used to be a good friend of your Father's before we had to seperate to pursue our careers. How are you fairing?"

Princess Cirilla, Fiona, seemed to startle at that, "I am going well, though travelling in the winter has been particularly difficult. We had a late start this season and are currently travelling on our way home."

"I'm astounded you made such a late start into the season, surely it will only get colder as you prepare to travel closer to your home down in Kaedwen, are you meeting anyone there?" It would make sense for Geralt to take Fiona to Kaer Morhen, it would be the safest place for her to learn and grow.

"I'm hoping to get in touch with a mutual acquaintance of ours, she's been unreachable since... she's been unreachable. Do you plan to stay in the area long?" Geralt really was just going to pick up where they left off then. 

"No, no, however if you'd like another travel companion, I'm happy to accompany you?"

Geralt seemed to regard him with a strange curiosity at that, with Fiona beside him looking a little uncomfortable, well she was until the food was placed in front of her and she tore it apart ravenously. "We're setting out at dawn." Was all the gruff man said and Jaskier nodded. 

It didn't matter how much his heart was beating in his chest, nor how much the wind seemed to be knocked out of him. Geralt didn't object. He may simply be travelling with them in order to seal his own doom, to lead his Witcher straight back to Yennefer but he was okay with that. He truly cared for the other, not just as a Witcher, not just as a muse, but something far far more than that. Even though he knew he would never get what he wanted, that he'd never be someone important in the other's life, not like Yennefer and now Cirilla, he knew that he could do this. He may love the Witcher with his entire body, his entire soul, but the other never needed to know that. He could live without an apology for the mountain, maybe he'd manage to earn one eventually by showing Geralt that he was useful and that Destiny was the cruel one here. He could do that. He loved Geralt. He loved him enough that he couldn't let the other leave his life again, even if his love was unrequited, as so many many bitter love songs seemed to go, he could settle. He wouldn't lose Geralt again, so he'd settle for being his friend.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work on this site! I hope you all enjoy and if you want drop a comment! Thank you for reading!


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